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Eerily
Strange
People came in early
For the foreclosure sale
At the restaurant down the
Hall in the mall,
It was eerily strange to see
The excitement and anticipation,
Not that it was right or wrong
Just eerily strange,
I suppose that’s how things are
One profits, advances from another’s
Misfortune,
Like the chicken, the steak on your plate
There from the fatal date for another creature,
People stayed late
At the foreclosure sale
Poking around the few remaining items,
Whispering among themselves that the
Best things may have been whisked away
In the dim light of the night before the locks
Were changed,
Strange, eerily strange.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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